


Pon Farr

by yourcrookedheart



Series: Fanfiction Tropes [6]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fuck Or Die, Gratuitous References to Pop Culture, Post-Episode: s07e22 Chosen, dubcon-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-26 02:05:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14990414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourcrookedheart/pseuds/yourcrookedheart
Summary: There's a magic orb and a mysterious enchantment, and it seems things never really go Willow's way - until they do.





	Pon Farr

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a bit of silliness, really. I wouldn't quite call this dubcon, but ymmv so I tagged it anyway due to the nature of the fuck-or-die trope.

“We have to _what_?” Buffy yanks the scrolls out of Giles’ hands and stares at them, wide green eyes scanning the yellowing papyrus before thrusting it back into Giles’ waiting hands. “I can’t read this, it’s in some gibberish language.”

“Yes, I could’ve told you that,” he replies, exasperation momentarily triumphing over worry as he glowers at Buffy.

It’s a scene familiar from ten years of apocalypses, and Willow ignores them in favor of leaning over Giles’ shoulder to look at the scrolls as well, though she’s not sure she can decipher anything more than Buffy could. “Repeat that again? The, uh, have sex or the world will end part,” she clarifies.

“Well… that seems to be about the gist of it.”

“Like Pon Farr,” Xander says, leading everyone else to frown at him.

“ _Star Trek_.” Dawn rolls her eyes. “And it’s not like Pon Farr, Vulcans have to have sex every seven years or they’ll die.”

“What did you do to her?” Buffy turns an accusatory glare on Xander, who shrugs.

Dawn ignores Buffy’s interruption. “According to this prophecy it doesn’t matter _who_ executes the ritual, only that it needs to happen or everyone dies.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad, right?” Willow remembers long afternoons in Tara’s darkened dorm room, curtains drawn to shut out anything beyond the two of them and that cramped four-by-four. Soft carpet but Tara’s hands always softer, murmuring melodic incantations that made a shiver run down Willow’s back and bright electric sparks leap off her fingers onto Tara’s pale skin. They’ve done worse things to save the world than some sex ritual.

She looks up as Giles clears his throat, nervously reexamining the prophecy. “There seems to be one minor problem. We only have an hour.”

“And by an hour, you mean…”

“An hour to complete the ritual. There is a timer of sorts on the orb. It started counting down when Buffy took it.”

“Well don’t look at me!” Buffy crosses her arms.

The orb is lying on the table, an innocuous green ball of mystical energy that looks more like a pretty paperweight than something with the ability to destroy the world.

“Great. Anyone want to call their significant other and save the world?” Xander asks.

“Anyone besides Dawn have a significant other to call?”

Dawn shakes her head. “I’m not introducing Eric to our weirdness by way of some fuck or die spell.”

“Your willingness to make sacrifices for the continued existence of the human race has been noted.”

“Okay, _you_ do it then,” Dawn tells Xander before dropping into a chair and staring daggers at the paperweight-slash-nuclear-bomb as if she’s trying to make it combust into flames with just the power of her stare. Xander raises his hands and glances between the other occupants of the living room. There are several beats of silence as they all consider their options, studiously avoiding each other’s eyes. The ticking of the clock on the wall seems unnaturally loud and ominous.

“If anyone’s been hiding some epic undying love, now would probably be the time to confess,” Buffy says, eyebrow raised. She catches Willow’s eyes only for a split second, but it’s enough to have Willow’s cheeks flaming.

It’s not an epic undying love. Nowhere near that, really. It’s three years of being single with Buffy just as available — except not. It’s three years and as many continents of rediscovering their friendship, sharing hotel rooms and then apartments. It’s three years of nothing substantial besides a growing awareness that has Willow fleeing the room as soon as Buffy comes out after a shower, still damp and gleaming.

It’s never daring to take a risk that could undo all of the above.

“I’ll take one for the team,” Willow says, voice as steady as she can manage. She wants to avoid Buffy’s gaze, another thing she’s gotten good at these past few years post-Sunnydale, but for once she doesn’t. The world could end in a little less than an hour, and she’s not having sex with Giles or Xander.

The silence stretches for a few seconds longer. Dawn’s fingernails are ticking a nervous pattern on the table in line with Willow’s heartbeat.

“Cool,” Buffy says eventually, voice as steady as Willow’s was, which is to say not at all. Willow’s heart decides to kick it up another notch. “Bedroom?”

“My bed’s bigger,” Willow says, leaning past a speechless Xander to grab a couple of candles and praying he’ll, for once, decide to keep his comments to himself.

Giles stops her with a hand on her arm, eyes steady as he hands her the spell. “Fifty five minutes.”

Willow glances at Buffy and grants herself a small smile; beams when Buffy answers it. “Think we’ll manage.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://queennsansa.tumblr.com/).


End file.
